


Positively Cheerful

by violasarecool



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, one lightly tipsy brosca and some playful banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 13:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violasarecool/pseuds/violasarecool
Summary: a bright moment between people who don't always have reason to be cheerful





	Positively Cheerful

It was late in the night when Lirin finally crawled back into their shared tent—crawling due to necessity, the ground being dark and bumpy and swaying slightly under her tipsy feet. Not _drunk,_ mind you, but closer than she'd expected when sitting down to drink with Wynne of all people. Paragons, could that woman _drink._

Lirin clambered over an outstretched leg—Alistair's, maybe—then tripped over another, collapsing onto her side. Alistair gave a sleepy groan. "Hey, pst." Lirin nudged Alistair's drowsy form with her shoulder. "Ali."

Alistair turned his head towards her, eyes only half-open. "_Ali?"_ he murmured, wrinkling his nose.

"No?" Lirin gave him a languid grin. "_Al__?"_

There was a beat of silence. Then: "You know, I can't decide which is worse," he said, and Lirin laughed, a bright sound in the night's silence that had Zevran stirring beside them.

"Why is there laughing," Zevran groaned, stretching his arms out to either side, and Lirin batted him away with another laugh. "Now you are just being difficult."

"_Lirin_, difficult?" Alistair said dryly.

Lirin, pleasantly warm from a good quantity of mediocre alcohol and the presence of two of her favourite people, just rolled her eyes. "Okay, _Al." _

Zevran propped himself up on one elbow, sleepy calm dissipating in the face of amusement. "Oh? Is it _Al _now?"

"Not on your life," Alistair said.

"Alright, _Ali," _Lirin said, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I—no!" Alistair protested. "No nicknames!"

"What about pet names?" Zevran asked, curling a finger through Lirin's hair; Lirin reached back and flipped her hair out from under her head so it lay spread across the bedroll. 

"Is there a difference?" Alistair said.

"But of course," Zevran said with a smile, "to begin with, pet names should rarely leave the bedroom."

"What, are you saying they should be _dirty?"_ Alistair wrinkled his nose.

Lirin snorted. "No, that's not—" She glanced at Zevran, who waggled his eyebrows.

"They _could_ be," he murmured.

Lirin shook her head, unimpressed. "And yet yours are just plain sappy."

_"Plain?_ I take great offense—" Zevran started, but Lirin was already turning back to Alistair.

"No one should be exposed to that kind of mush," she said flatly.

"Ah."

"I personally am not opposed," Zevran put in, "but yes, as a general rule, for a name to be _considered_ a pet name, it should be something many take shame in hearing in public. Sweetheart," he said, leaning towards Alistair, "cariño, darling, beloved, amor—"

"Okay, okay," Alistair said, face flushing as he pushed a very self-satisfied Zevran back. "I get it."

"Odd how at least half of your list have been _brandished_ around camp already," Lirin said, eyebrows raised.

"Is it?" Zevran said.

"No."

"Good, because I can think of several more—"

"Will you _please_ keep it down?" came Leliana's voice, closer than expected, and they all stilled. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Make me," Lirin called back.

"How about I tell Oghren you are positively _cheerful_ when inebriated?"

_"Fine,"_ Lirin groaned, "quieting up now." She thumped her face against the bedroll with a low huff. "Remind me to find dirt on Leliana," she grumbled. ("I heard that," Leliana called.)

"It is _just_ like you to think that _being cheerful_ is blackmail material," Alistair said fondly.

"I will smile in the privacy of my tent and nowhere else," Lirin retorted, though her words were muffled by the bedding.

"Untrue!" Zevran announced (a little too loudly—Alistair waved a shushing hand at him). "Why, just last week, you smiled when Sten threatened a nobleman."

"I enjoyed that," Alistair supplied. "He was _definitely_ asking for it."

"See, _Alistair_ supports me."

"My dear, if you wanted me to threaten noblemen for you, all you had to do was ask."

"Nah, Sten does it better."

"You _wound_ me."

"I am about to," came Leliana's voice, and they collapsed into giggles.


End file.
